


Sleep When You're Dead

by gloomboyz



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gore, M/M, Weighted Music Video AU, Zombie AU, it talks about eating kids and stuff so yeah beware, you kinda have to squint to see the romance?, zombie!frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomboyz/pseuds/gloomboyz
Summary: Frank is dead and Gerard can't sleep.





	Sleep When You're Dead

**Author's Note:**

> uh. hi. i'm frankie, and this is technically the first thing i'll be posting on my account since i remade it. don't worry, though, i'll be posting an actual story soon. hope you enjoy this one though !!

Gerard knew it was a bad idea. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. He wasn't a complete idiot.

But then again, maybe he was. Because here he was, walking out on the streets of Belleville at 2 am, one of the stupidest and most idiotic ideas anyone could think of.

He couldn't complain much, though, because no one had tried to shoot him or stab him yet, and the fresh air was doing a pretty good job at clearing his head. He tended to over think things at night, and after moving back to Belleville, the thoughts hadn't stopped like he hoped they would. And so, here he was, sleep deprived to all shit, but still waking around.

Stumbling down some dark road, Gerard glanced at his surroundings. It was dark out, yes, but the outlines of a small forest and some huge Victorian-like home could be visible in the distance. The sight screamed paranormal, and while Gerard was usually all for that kind of thing, it could actually be someone's home, and he wasn't going to take any risks by going up to check it out further. The stuffy summer night air was a bit unpleasant, but Gerard wasn't particularly ready to go back and face his brother, who was probably worrying sick about him. Mikey couldn't sleep through anything. He probably would wake up at the sound of a pin dropping, no less the sound of Gerard walking down a flight of stairs and out the front door, so Gerard could only imagine Mikey pacing around their shared home, cursing at Gerard from under his breath. But, Gerard had yet to get any texts or calls from his younger sibling, so that had to be a good sign. Right? Gerard shook his head, and continued walking. Worrying about his brother wasn't going to do him any good.

About a block down from the road, Gerard spotted a cemetery. Perfect. Any cemetery was a good cemetery in Gerard's mind, and with that, he walked up to the gates. The massive iron gates looked too big for him alone to move, not to mention the over sized padlock dangling from one of the gates. But, luckily, the gates were already opened. Well, broken into, more or less. Said lock looked like it was cut by bolt cutters or something of the like, seeing as it was in two pieces. He probably shouldn't go in, seeing as someone had already broken in and it being Belleville, there was a very likely chance that this person would kill or at least attack Gerard. But, as established earlier by his decision to walk around at 2 am anyway, Gerard was just a bit of an idiot. He pushed open the gates further, that had been just barely dangling from the gate, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

The graveyard was quiet, but not in an eerie sense, like most graveyards were. Barely any life inhibited the grounds meant for the dead, seeing as the occasional cricket chirp Gerard could hear from the other side of the gate, was nowhere to be found. But, in all honesty, Gerard preferred it that way. The quiet left more space for his thoughts to ravage. But, seemingly, the quiet that infested the graveyard, polluted Gerard's mind as well, because his typical self-doubt and overthinking was nowhere to be found in the echos of his brain. Instead, those fears and worries were taken over by a new set of fear. The fear was irrational, he knew, because he knew that the supernatural was not real. But still, the over looming worry that some creature was lurking in the shadows, ready to eat his brains, was ever prevalent in his mind. That, or the fear that he'd be stabbed by some gang. The thought made him shiver, and he wasn't so keen on staying in this graveyard for much longer.

But suddenly, there was sound. It was small, and probably insignificant, but any sound in the completely desolate graveyard was literally the worst possible thing to Gerard at the moment. He was already scared shitless, and that tiny noise did not help. Whatsoever.

The noise sounded vaguely like something rustling up against the grass and possibly the tree to Gerard's left, but it also sounded like someone grunting. Okay, so, someone else was definitely here, and it wasn't Gerard's imagination. Probably. But, who knew? Maybe it was just some kids fucking around, defiling the graves and grave-digging for buried treasure. Yeah, that had to be it, Gerard told himself.

It didn't really help his nerves, though.

Gerard inched closer to the tree to his left, trying his best to be sneaky while locating the source of the noise. Why? He didn't know. And yet, he creeped closer, coming to the base. He peeked around it, looking for anyone or anything besides rows upon rows of tombstones and mausoleums. And boy, was he in luck. Not really.

There, at the base of the opposite side of the tree, sat a man, slumped over and positively covered in blood. Well, that was something. Gerard stood for a moment, listening for a sign that the man was alive. After at least 30 seconds of not hearing a single thing from the man, not even an intake of breath or an exhale, Gerard deduced that the man was dead, and stepped forward, in front of the body. The man's eyes were open, and while this wouldnt've been all that unusual, his eyes were wide and followed Gerard's movements. Strange, but Gerard was tired. Maybe he had imagined the man not breathing, or the man looking at him. Either one was possible. But, he had to have imagined the first one, because the man shifted. He might not've been dead, but he wasn't looking to swell. His eyes were sunken in and bruised, even, his skin was pale, and, well, he was covered in blood. Lots of it. Gerard sighed and crouched down to look the man in the eyes. This was going to be a long night.

~*^*~

Frank hurt. It wasn't a sharp, stinging pain, it was more of an ache. A dull pain that made his bones creak. His breathing was labored, and his head was spinning. Wait, did he even need to breathe? He wasn't quite sure. But honestly, he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

He groaned, shifting in his slouched spot at the base of the tree. The night air was muggy, and his uncomfortable suit wasn't making it any better. The suit, which was still covered in blood, was two sizes too small in some places, while two sizes too big in others. Great.

Speaking of blood, the scent still hung heavy in the air. Frank doubted any living human would be able to smell the coppery scent, but Frank seemed to have an elevated sense of smell towards blood, after the whole "dying and coming back to life as some undead creature" thing happened. Despite the fact that the children's bodies had been dragged off by his band mates, who, at this point had practically left him for dead (or, re-dead, Frank supposed), he could still identify who's blood was who's. Frank had to admit, he was the slightest bit bothered by the fact that his band mates had probably left for good, but at the same time, he was fairly relieved. The sooner he detached himself from his old life, the better. No need for his supposed-to-be-dead corpse to be shambling around and being buddy-buddy with his old friends like he wasn't some sort of vicious and very undead zombie-like creature. He probably should leave Belleville while he's at it. Better off moving to a town where no one misses him, because no one knows him. But, nah, he loved this shithole of a town too much to leave it all behind. Maybe he'd just move into the woods. Ooh, or the funeral home. That place was pretty nice.

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted. Blood. New blood. The scent traveled through the air and punched Frank in the gut, stinging him with the knowledge that someone else was here. And it wasn't anyone he knew. Frank's body tensed, and he held his breath.

Two revaluations dawned on him at this. One, he didn't need to breathe. He probably still would, though. Gave him some semblance of feeling alive. And two, he was fucking starving. The knowledge that someone else was here made Frank's stomach grumble. Those kids had been filling, yes, but kids weren't the best source of food, as Frank was quickly finding out. It took him all his energy, which, admittedly, wasn't very much, to not spring up and immediately attack whatever unlucky soul decided to wander in the cemetery.

It was only a moment before the figure approached Frank. They towered over him, and Frank would never admit it, but he was a bit terrified. He was practically helpless at the moment. All the energy in his body had depleted, and really, that only made him more hungry. But then, in turn, more energy was wasted, and the cycle continued. But, the figure crouched down to be eye level with Frank's slumped form, and he began to breathe once more. Their lengthy dark hair fell around their face, and Frank could tell they were a bit younger than he was, than he had been, should he say. Frank glanced down at their lips.

Oh.

They were speaking.

They looked at Frank expectantly, like they had asked him a question. Which, they probably did. Frank shook his head, and attempted to say 'What?'. But, instead, the sound from his mouth was far from that. Instead, it sound was more strangled, and was more of a 'Huh?', which he in no way intended it to be. Why couldn't he talk? What the fuck? It was like his brain and his vocal chords weren't synced up in the slightest. A bit concerning, but the stranger seemed to understand what he was trying to say, and repeated what they said.

"I said, are you alright, man?" Was Frank alright? He sure didn't feel like it, but he didn't really know. He shook his head no, seemingly against his will. He pretty clearly wasn't okay, sure. But the sooner this person was gone, the better.

For, you see, this person was fucking with Frank's brain. Whether intentional or not, it was happening. Simply by looking into this person's shining hazel eyes, all of the pain in his body ceased to be, and the craving for human flesh dwindled away into practically nothingness. Frank automatically knew there was something wrong about this, he was a zombie for Christ sakes! But, at the moment, Frank didn't really care much.

"Y-yeah, I can kinda tell. Do you want me to call an ambulance or something?" The person managed to stutter out. Frank shook his head.

"N-no? Okay, that's okay. Uh, I can take you back to my place, if you want? Get you cleaned up and stuff." The stranger suggested, and once more, Frank shook his head. "Yeah, that's probably not the best idea anyway. My house is kinda far from here, and my brother would have a tantrum if I was just bringing home random bloody guys." The stranger bit their lip in concentration, and Frank had to admit, it was kinda hot. God, he'd been dead for a week, and he already missed sex. But, the sound of the stranger speaking to him once again pulled him out of his sex-clouded brain.

"Uhm, if you want, I could take you back to your place? And, y'know, clean you up, bandage any of your cuts, that sort of thing. Then I'll be out of your hair." Their voice seemed to grow quieter with every word, as if they were embarrassed. But, honestly, it wasn't all that bad of an idea.

Of course, Frank didn't exactly have a house to go to anymore, but that detail could be glossed over. And the kid was at least trying to help him. Frank nodded.

"Yeah? Okay, yeah. We can do that. Just let me, um- how about I help you up, and you show me where you live, yeah?"  They asked, and while Frank wasn't so sure they'd be able to lift him up in his current state of being purely dead weight (quite literally), he agreed nonetheless. The pain might've been gone now that this complete stranger was here, but his energy had yet to make an appearance. So, allowing the stranger to help him walk was probably the only way he was going to move at the moment. The stranger nodded, and crouched down to sling an arm around Frank's waist, while swinging one of his arms around their neck. And, on the count of three, they hoisted him up, stumbling only slightly.

"You alright?" They asked, their nasally voice laced with a bit of worry and a whole lot of strain. Frank nodded, and shakily raised his other arm, pointing in the direction of his "home". The only place he could think of was the funeral home he had been at a few hours earlier, and that seemed like a good enough place to squat for at least a week or so. At least until he figured out how to manage this whole "being dead" thing. "That's the direction of your house?" The stranger questioned. Bingo. Frank nodded again. "Well, let's get going."

About halfway through the walk to the funeral home, the stranger spoke up again, them and Frank still limping and stumbling quite pathetically to the building.

"I just realized that I never asked you your name." They said. Frank grunted slightly as some sort of reply. His head and his voice still seemingly did not want to cooperate with each other, which, Frank supposed had to do with the zombie thing. But, here went nothing.

"F-Frrr...Frraaannk." He somehow managed to groan out. It was a pathetic attempt, really, but at the moment, it was the best he could do. And, hey, it sounded at least somewhat like his name.

"Frank? Well, Frank, I'm Gerard." The stranger- Gerard- smiled at him. And in that moment, Frank could swear he felt his cold, dead heart flutter.


End file.
